


Sugar Kisses

by leftfoottrapped (miikkaa_xx), yamtempura



Category: DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ, EXO (Band)
Genre: Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, Multi, OT4, Open Relationships, Polyamory, Polygamy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-28
Updated: 2014-04-28
Packaged: 2018-01-21 02:20:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1534034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miikkaa_xx/pseuds/leftfoottrapped, https://archiveofourown.org/users/yamtempura/pseuds/yamtempura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Suho tries to sort his emotions out about his best friend and bandmate Chen before coming to a rather satisfying conclusion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sugar Kisses

**Author's Note:**

> This is another instalment in the [OT4 universe](http://leftfoottrapped.tumblr.com/post/66241771482/the-ot4verse-masterpost), this one being a little more SuChen based as we work through the other pairings in the open, polyamorous relationship that is Yunho/Suho/Changmin/Chen.

_How do you feel about BBQ Thursday night? Bring Jongdae. Changmin misses him already._

Joonmyeon still has the text message saved in his phone, months and months after Yunho sent it. Needless to say, Thursday didn’t happen, their schedules getting more hectic once New Year’s began approaching, and while there were stolen moments here and there – smiles between dance practices in the halls of the SM building, cuddles on the couch during the brief periods of downtime, even managing a few surprise visits to Yunho's apartment – Joonmyeon feels overtaken by schedules and PDs and managers and fights to keep everyone above water during the incredibly busy time.

Now, with New Year’s decorations being cleaned up and their schedules sticking them close to the dorms, Joonmyeon feels like he can actually begin breathing again, finally bringing up the subject of a double date with Yunho over text message.

The reply Yunho sends him has him grinning to himself through the rest of the day up until EXO K returns to the dorms in the evening. Joonmyeon lets himself into the EXO M dorms next door, listening to their voices lead him down the hall, opening up to the living room.

Jongdae is standing with his hands on his hips, mouth twisted as he speaks, ‘ – it’s not that fucking hard is it? How do you screw that up?’

Meanwhile, Minseok and Yixing sit on the couch watching him with grins on their faces as Jongdae continues spouting angrily about what Joonmyeon is sure is nothing serious. Just when he’s about to step in with a teasing, ‘did someone call you ugly, Jongdae-yah,’ on the tip of his tongue, Jongdae pauses to take a breath and Yixing reaches out, a hand wrapping around Jongdae’s wrist. Joonmyeon's breath catches.

‘You’re overreacting,’ he says gently. Jongdae presses his mouth in a thin line and glares down at Yixing, clearly disagreeing. At least, until Yixing is tugging Jongdae forward to sit beside him on the couch and curl an arm around Jongdae’s shoulders.

With a twist in his stomach, Joonmyeon watches Jongdae huff and press up against Yixing, his shoulders slowly untensing and jaw loosening. ‘Shut up, gege.’ Yixing laughs and ruffles Jongdae’s hair, and Jongdae preens under the touch, everything about his irritation melting away in only a few moments. Something yawning and cavernous opens in the pit of Joonmyeon's stomach and he finds himself envious of _Yixing_ , sweet lovely Yixing.

Finally, Jongdae’s eyes flick upwards and he spots Joonmyeon standing in the hall entrance, frozen by indecision and feeling like he had just witnessed something important. ‘Hyung!’ Joonmyeon smiles, seeing Jongdae pull away from Yixing’s side immediately and go up to him. ‘You guys finished early.’

‘We did.’ Joonmyeon pulls his phone from his pocket and gestures to the kitchen, and Jongdae nods, an arm hooking around Joonmyeon’s and pulling him along. Nothing about him seems upset anymore as he faces Joonmyeon with warmth in his eyes and an expectant expression.

In a heartbeat, Joonmyeon realizes that nothing he could’ve said standing in the hallway could have worked half as well as a hand around Jongdae’s waist and warmth pressed all along his side, no matter how Joonmyeon imagines that he is Jongdae’s closest hyung.

On an impulse, Joonmyeon reaches out and grabs his hand, trying to find a little of that physicality, smiling brightly at Jongdae. ‘Yunho-hyung asked me if you were free next weekend.’ A little breath of relief escapes his throat when Jongdae squeezes his fingers and thinks on it.

‘Yeah, I’ll make time, don’t worry. Should I let Changmin-hyung know?’

‘That sounds good.’ Joonmyeon stares at Jongdae, wanting – wanting to _touch_ – but Jongdae just cocks his head, an expression of concern on his face.

‘You alright, hyung?’

Joonmyeon shutters his expression, packs away his feelings to go through later – if and when he has time. His needs are not Jongdae’s. ‘Fine. Just a little tired, I think.’

Jongdae nods to himself and pulls his hand away as he turns around, opening the fridge. ‘We still have leftovers. You can eat and go to bed right after.’ Joonmyeon stands still, his fingers curling in on themselves, before sucking in a steadying breath.

‘That sounds nice.’

...

‘Can I ask why you are eating on my bed?’ Joonmyeon asks, rubbing a layer of tinted moisturizer over his face briskly, catching Jongdae’s eye in the mirror. His eyebrows draw together. ‘In fact, can I ask why you’re eating at all? We’re going out to dinner.’

‘I know,’ comes the reply, mixed in with the crunch of shrimp crackers.

‘We've been trying to get together for _weeks_ now and finally managed to get our schedules lined up.’

‘I know.’

‘Jongdae-yah...’

Jongdae smiles at him, his eyes crinkling. ‘You keep frowning like that and you’re going to get wrinkles, hyung.’

Joonmyeon sighs and shakes his head. He straightens his shoulders in the mirror, rubbing his chin, smoothing out his face. Nervousness and stress prickles his insides, like all of his cells are made out of static noise, but he is well accustomed to the feeling, so he does what he usually does and gathers it inside him like his spine is a lightening rod in order to deal with later.

A hand comes down on his shoulder, and he jerks in surprise.

‘It'll be fine,’ Jongdae says softly.

‘I know,’ Joonmyeon unknowingly echoes him, feeling some of his static discharge at his touch. His fingertips brush over Jongdae’s knuckles feather-light, before grasping just the very ends of his fingers and holding onto them to ground himself. The whole season has been passing by in a blur of promotions and concerts and shows and Joonmyeon is often finding himself feeling stretched too thin, snapping too quickly, being harsh when he should be kind. He knows Jongdae can see it and he _hates_ that he can’t be strong enough to not worry him.

‘I don’t think Changmin-hyung likes you very much though,’ Jongdae interrupts his thoughts with an offhand comment. ‘Double dates are not his style.’

It’s what Joonmyeon needs to hear, breaking through his circular thoughts. He grins up at him. ‘It’s because I’m too handsome.’

Jongdae scoffs, but his fingers curl just slightly in Joonmyeon’s grip. ‘Thanks to the miracles of makeup.’ Joonmyeon flings off his hand, but they can both see the tension has drained from the set line of his neck.

‘Please tell me you didn’t get cracker dust on my jacket.’ Joonmyeon brushes at his shoulder.

Jongdae’s grin is wide and reassuring in it’s cockiness. ‘Nah, I wiped it off on your sheets.’

…

The restaurant is tucked away in some corner of the street, with the owners taking extra care to huddle them into a booth in the back for privacy. The meat and vegetables come piled high in plates and bowls, seemingly endless as they populate the flat wood of the table around the barbeque. Once the fire has been lit, the four of them are left alone, and Jongdae immediately snatches up the tongs to lay the strips of meat onto the grill to start.

Joonmyeon sits tucked up next to Yunho’s warmth, enjoying the feeling coming back into his cold fingers as he nibbles slowly on the bean salad, waiting for Jongdae to finish cooking the rest of the pork on the grill, wondering at what point Changmin is going to stop giving him horrified looks and simply take over.

He is content, but warily so. There is no rush to put any sort of parameters on the relationship – whatever it was they were doing – and so every time he finds himself sliding towards thinking that way, trying to fit what Yunho and Changmin and Jongdae are and what _they_ are into a neat box in Joonmyeon’s mind, he sidles away from it like the entire thought was encased in soap, still there, but slick enough to escape a true grasp.

He _needs_ this. He needs _them_ in whatever way they come and he refuses to screw it up, even in his own head.

So instead, he relaxes. He chuckles at Yunho’s teasing of Changmin and Jongdae’s loud wail when Changmin does exactly what Joonmyeon had expected and steals the tongs away.

A hand settles on the back of his neck and he can’t help the shiver that runs through him, even as he looks up into Yunho’s smiling face while the man looks at the other two across the table. Joonmyeon tries to relax into the gentle stroking of Yunho’s fingers across the hairs at the back of his neck, but it is making him restless in an entirely different way.

‘They are adorable, aren’t they?’ The words come warm and soft against his cheek, and Joonmyeon feels his lips curl up in a smile.

‘Utterly,’ he responds, sliding his hand over Yunho’s thigh, liking the feeling of the solid muscle underneath the other’s jeans. His nails scrape up the inner seam of his pants, softly, repeatedly, seeing Yunho’s game and raising his stakes. He hears Yunho’s quiet inhale and it sends blood rushing to his groin.

‘Can I get you two anything?’ Jongdae says offhandedly, still trying to take the tongs back from Changmin. ‘A mirror? A camera? A stage?’

‘Says the person who came back from Changmin-hyung’s apartment with more hickeys than freckles,’ Joonmyeon shoots back easily, feeling Yunho shake with silent laughter beside him, the warmth of the affection from both of them settling into his stomach pleasantly, complimenting the low hum of arousal singing through his nerves. He levels a look at Changmin, the frequency (and often placement) of Jongdae’s hickeys a long-standing point of contention between them.

Changmin has the gall to look smug. ‘You’d be eager to dole them out too if you could hear how beautiful he sounds when he gets one.’

Jongdae finally gives up on the tongs and simply uses his chopsticks to move the meat around instead, ignoring Changmin. ‘Yunho-hyung gets you presents, I get hickeys. Do you want to trade, hyung?’

Joonmyeon’s tongue peeks out to wet his lower lip, amused despite himself. ‘No. I think I am getting the better end of the deal.’ He teasingly flicks his gaze between Changmin and Yunho.

A shrug is all that Jongdae gives him, the pork sizzling as he moves it around the grill.

Changmin rolls his eyes. ‘I’m just glad Yunho-hyung’s the one who has to deal with you.’

‘Since I’m probably a nice break from his other partner,’ Joonmyeon says with a smirk, his fingers slowly inching up Yunho’s inner thigh, still keeping his touch fleeting.

‘Joonmyeonnie-yah,’ Yunho says halfway between a reproach and a plea, the soft throatiness in his voice belying the effect Joonmyeon’s fingers are having on him, but Jongdae and Changmin aren’t really listening.

Instead, Changmin’s voice verges on a growl as he bats Jongdae’s chopsticks away in order to get at the grill and save some of the meat that is beginning to crisp at the edges. His eyes flick up to Joonmyeon when he speaks, ‘be grateful I decided to share, brat.’

‘Eternally.’ He smiles bright and wide at Changmin, making sure his eyes are vacant and limpid just the way he knows irritates the other. It works.

Changmin rolls his eyes again. ‘Are you always this annoying?’

‘Only to my near and dear.’

‘I weep for your past lovers.’

‘No need. There’s only been Yunho-hyung.’ Joonmyeon is reaching with his chopsticks for one of the pieces of pork that Changmin is coddling, the words slipping out of him without thought.

The silence that stretches out after is long and Joonmyeon uses the opportunity to pop the hot meat into his mouth. ‘What?’ he asks, sucking in a cooling breath of air before chewing. It’s salty and good, and Joonmyeon has to admit that if nothing else, Changmin does know how to cook. At least better than Jongdae does.

‘Joonmyeonnie,’ Yunho breathes, his brows drawn together.

‘Yunho,’ Changmin snaps at the same time and he sounds upset although for what reason, Joonmyeon can’t really fathom.

‘You told me you weren’t a virgin,’ Yunho protests, starting to look slightly horrified.

Joonmyeon can’t help himself and swallows his bite before leaning up to press a soft kiss at the downward turn of Yunho’s lips. ‘I believe I told you I wasn’t a _blushing_ virgin,’ he clarifies, his own mouth curling up into a mischievous grin. ‘I wasn’t blushing at the time, was I, hyung?’

‘ _Jung Yunho_.’

Catching Jongdae’s gaze, Joonmyeon raises his brows at Changmin’s repeated outburst.

Jongdae just grins back at Joonmyeon, batting his eyelashes. ‘He’s just jealous that a pure virgin like you could seduce his Yunho-hyung as well as he can.’

‘I didn’t know.’ Yunho tries to placate Changmin, but then he’s looking at Joonmyeon with something bright and new in his eyes and Joonmyeon is incredibly, incredibly curious as to what he is thinking.

‘I just can’t believe you fucked that many times on your first go,’ Jongdae supplies helpfully as Changmin makes a strangled noise beside him.

‘I’ve always been an overachiever,’ Joonmyeon says, reaching for another piece of pork only to have his chopsticks blocked angrily by Changmin. Joonmyeon levels a look at the other, suddenly annoyed by the whole matter. ‘Are we going to continue this conversation? We can always turn it into a sharing session.’ A cloyingly sweet smile stretches over his mouth. ‘How about you, Changmin-hyung? Would you like to tell us about your first?’

‘God,’ Changmin snaps but then suddenly his expression turns sly and Joonmyeon narrows his eyes, suspicious. ‘I’ll tell you Yunho’s first – it was me.’

There’s a pause where Joonmyeon genuinely _believes_ Changmin’s bold-faced lie before Yunho bursts out laughing, burying his face in his hands, shaking his head, too breathless to say no. Unfortunately for Joonmyeon, Changmin realizes his lapse and snorts, ‘still a kid.’

Even Jongdae is grinning at him, wide and mocking, and just for a moment, it _hurts_. Just another way Joonmyeon has been measured and failed. One more means of letting everyone down when he isn’t even sure why it matters. It is almost funny. Who would have thought that it is always going to boil down to experience, and his lack of? Still, he is a leader, and a fucking good one at that, so he shoves all the feelings prickling at the back of his eyes aside and slaps on an amused face, even managing a laugh.

It doesn’t fool Jongdae – it never does; his expression sobers up instantly, his eyes darting to Yunho’s face.

Yunho is still laughing, but now he is wrapping Joonmyeon up in his arms, his warmth all up Joonmyeon’s back, resting his chin on his shoulder. ‘Maybe a kid,’ his breath puffing softly onto his cheek, ‘but that hasn’t stopped Changmin from jerking off to your video.’

‘ _Yunho_!’

‘Twice. That I know of.’

Jongdae’s laughter rings out loudly as he steals the tongs back from Changmin’s distracted hands. ‘I thought you said videos weren’t your thing, Changmin-hyung.’

‘They’re not!’

Yunho ignores them and presses a soft kiss against the skin of Joonmyun’s jaw. Joonmyeon doesn’t even realize how hard it is clenched until he releases the pressure, a wary sense of ease flowing through him, along with Yunho’s voice: ‘breathe.’

‘But...’

‘No ‘but’s.’ A hand slides under Joonmyeon’s sweater, resting gently against the skin of his abdomen, the tips of his fingers stroking softly. ‘Just breathe. Changmin was getting after me, not you.’ Yunho’s nose nudges across his cheekbone. ‘I cannot begin to describe to you how I am honoured – and how much it doesn’t matter in the slightest. ’

Then Joonmyeon feels a leg hook around his ankle and tug, and he looks up to Jongdae’s warm glance, letting it settle into his bones, adding it to his frame to solidify himself. This is exactly his problem – he is worn out to the quick, every nerve exposed and raw so that even the most minor of frictions instantly sets about a chain reaction. He relaxes and gives Jongdae an apologetic smile, sorry he’s not stronger, sorry that he worries him. Except Jongdae shakes his head and Joonmyeon is simply _flooded_ with affection for him. Fiercely, Joonmyeon wishes he knew a way to tell Jongdae that he is always and forever his, how beyond merely grateful he is that Jongdae is his anchor, but Jongdae probably knows anyway.

‘Should I be jealous, hyung?’ Jongdae asks him, taking a piece of meat and holding it out before turning his slash of a grin towards Changmin.

Joonmyeon stares at the food in surprise until he feels Yunho nudging him gently from behind before he finally takes it. He knows that Jongdae is forever taking care of the youngers in EXO, it is one of the reasons Joonmyeon is so, so grateful Jongdae is there, to be solid for them when Joonmyeon can’t be. Still, it’s surprising to see how naturally Jongdae falls into it and even more so to have this care aimed at Joonmyeon himself.

‘Of course you should be,’ Joonmyeon states as he swallows, a real smile beginning to raise up on his face. ‘I did warn you Jongdae-yah that if you weren’t careful I’d take both of them.’

‘And what about me?’ Jongdae’s eyelashes flutter.

‘Especially you,’ Joonmyeon returns, lifting his eyebrows, tilting his head. Chopsticks jab accusingly between them. ‘After all, I wasn’t the one who betrayed my hyung on national television.’

Jongdae laughs again, booming and high-pitched and familiar, and Joonmyeon instinctively joins in, lifting his hand to cover his mouth.

And just like that, Joonmyeon feels more himself – more solid and filled-in than he has in weeks, like he’s a person again, not some scraped-out shell. He understands with a sudden clarity. For the moment, he’s Joonmyeon again. Not Suho. Not even hyung – not really, not to Jongdae. The thought makes his shoulders drop, tension evaporating away like smoke. 

‘And yet, you were still voted most handsome,’ Jongdae points out, feeding him another piece of meat, this one stolen from Changmin’s carefully guarded pile of perfectly cooked slices. Changmin growls at Jongdae, but Jongdae just grins and Joonmyeon makes a special effort to savour the contraband, smiling winsomely at Changmin’s sour look.

‘The first and last time I was respected,’ Joonmyeon sighs dramatically, looking up at Yunho in abject despair, his eyebrows puckered upwards.

‘Ah,’ Yunho replies, closing his eyes and giving his head a small nod. ‘I know the pain of incorrigible dongsaengs. I can’t imagine eleven of them.’

Joonmyeon nods back. ‘Changmin-hyung is probably as much work as eight, though. You have my sympathies.’

‘Thank you, Joonmyeon-ah.’

‘I am so done with you two,’ Changmin scoffs as Jongdae laughs at him.

Joonmyeon just leans back against Yunho, letting the man’s fingers stroking his skin warm his insides as he smiles. He watches Changmin offer Jongdae a portion of the meat from the cordoned off section of the grill as he moves his own fingers to gently trace up the inside of Yunho’s thigh. The touch is soothing in its familiarity and he enjoys seeing the bob of Yunho’s throat when his fingers creep a little higher, feeling Changmin’s eyes eventually also drawn to them.

Jongdae doesn’t even look up from where he is gently gathering a pinch of kimchi between his chopsticks when he puts his free hand lightly over Changmin’s wrist, catching his attention. ‘Do you want me to do that to you too, hyung?’ His grin is mischievous and verging on predatory. Joonmyeon wonders if Changmin ever actually stood a chance against him.

However, Changmin just blinks slow and languid, his gaze shifting sideways to Jongdae, sly and with more than a little lust. ‘Do it, and I will drag you to the bathroom and make you wail so loudly the entire restaurant will hear my name.’

‘Please don’t,’ Joonmyeon sighs.

Changmin’s gaze shoots to him, narrowed. ‘So you can feel up Yunho in front of us, but we aren’t allowed to do have any fun?’

Joonmyeon tilts his head at Changmin, giving him an incredulous look. ‘You think I care about that? Mostly I just don’t want to carry the two of you losers out of here when you both go off like firecrackers.’

Changmin blinks again. ‘What?’

Joonmyeon makes an explosion motion with his free hand, giving it a soft sound effect of fizzling out to lay his hand palm up on the table like some sort of dead bug. Behind him, Yunho is barely holding himself together, his fist to his mouth as he tries to choke back his laughter.

Changmin is speechless and Joonmyeon smiles at him. Still silent, Changmin’s glare turns to Jongdae who holds up his hands, protesting innocence – and then finally settles on Yunho across the table, who still has his fingers up Joonmyeon’s shirt.

Yunho grins wide at him with a shrug. ‘It comes up, sometimes.’

‘ _Hyung_!’

‘It’s okay,’ Joonmyeon soothes him, feeling as though he’s won this round. ‘We all have our different strengths.’

‘And I appreciate all of them,’ Jongdae adds with a look towards Changmin, a low note in his voice. Unable to help it, Joonmyeon finds himself staring curiously at Jongdae, wondering exactly what it is that he likes, wondering what Changmin does to him that brings him home marked up and smiling for days.

Sometimes, he catches himself thinking if anyone else could make Jongdae smile like that too – that even in this supposedly open relationship, only Changmin has the right to that specific expression of Jongdae’s contentment. It has something too close to envy twisting in Joonmyeon’s stomach like a pit viper, ready to strike out if he focuses on it too much.

‘Hyung?’ Most likely feeling his stare, Jongdae turns his gaze to him, curious and open but Joonmyeon shakes his head and looks away, not wanting Jongdae to see him. Ever since this entire arrangement began months upon months ago, Joonmyeon can’t deny that thoughts of… being with Jongdae haven’t crossed his mind.

It’s too easy to not to think of because it’s _Jongdae_. Jongdae who already seemed to know all of Joonmyeon’s words – making them meaningless between them, Jongdae who does his best to comfort and push and support whenever Joonmyeon needs it, being far more than just a best friend – to the point where Joonmyeon feels overwhelmed with how badly he just wants to wrap him up in appreciation and gratitude and a million other things.

Because this is Jongdae... Joonmyeon swallows, his fingers stilling on Yunho’s thigh. This is Jongdae who seems to react so much better to physical affection.

Focusing on the food and the warmth of Yunho pressed all along his side, Joonmyeon stubbornly pushes his thoughts away. Right now, Joonmyeon has Yunho – who is more than Joonmyeon could possibly have imagined or asked for – and Jongdae has Changmin – who makes him happy in some way that Joonmyeon can’t touch – and for Joonmyeon to ask for Jongdae as well seems far too greedy and selfish when he should be satisfied to be a part of this arrangement at all.

Besides, as much as he loves Jongdae – and he does, he _does_ , so fucking _much_ – he is not _in_ love with him and there is still a very definite distinction in his mind between the two. Still, he can’t help but notice – this is also Jongdae with the beautiful curve of an upper lip.

…

The taxi ride is in comfortable silence as Joonmyeon and Jongdae head towards Yunho’s apartment separate from the other two, just in case. Joonmyeon knows that if someone did photograph them, there would be no help for it, but the false promise to himself still makes him feel even the slightest bit more secure about the whole arrangement.

‘You know I don’t care, right hyung?’

The words break the silence, and Joonmyeon turns to look at Jongdae in the backseat of the car, his features thrown into stark relief from the neon lights outside, a constant moving shadow that highlights the arch of his cheekbones, the plane of his nose, the flare of his eyelashes.

‘Care about what?’ Joonmyeon asks quietly.

Jongdae shrugs, a lazy lift and fall of his shoulder, his gaze concentrated out the window, his expression almost bored. ‘That he was your first.’ His eyes are dark and fathomless when he looks back at Joonmyeon. ‘I didn’t mean anything by it.’

The tightness between Joonmyeon’s ribs eases. ‘I know,’ he says, holding his hand between them. Jongdae’s fingers are warm and solid when they slide between his and Joonmyeon grips them like a lifeline.

…

‘Since Myeonnie bought dinner,’ Yunho announces, holding up two grocery bags as he entered into his own apartment, the other three already making themselves at home courtesy of Changmin’s spare key that he keeps claiming to forget to give back, ‘I went and got us dessert!’

Joonmyeon stands from where he was cuddled against Jongdae for warmth, his toes having gone numb in the cold while waiting for Changmin to arrive.

‘You can try and make up for it all you want,’ Changmin states in amusement, flicking through the television for something interesting to watch, ‘but you still can’t deny that you let your dongsaeng buy you dinner.’

Yunho flushes and Joonmyeon leans up on his tiptoes in order to place a kiss on Yunho’s lovely line of a jaw, smiling. ‘I wanted to, hyung,’ he says, taking one of the bags on his way back to flat feet. Joonmyeon enjoys spoiling Yunho.

It’s obvious it doesn’t happen often, the way that Yunho seems always a little taken aback that someone was caring for him – protesting, but then capitulating when Joonmyeon stands firm and waits for Yunho’s face to turn absolutely sunny. It is one of his favourite expressions, the one where Yunho smiles pleased and shy and boyish that make Joonmyeon _ache_ to take care of him, to treat him wonderfully simply because Yunho deserves wonderful things.

‘C’mon then, leaders will create fantastic dessert for the sloths on the couch,’ Yunho announces and Joonmyeon looks over to find Jongdae already making his way over to curl up inside Changmin’s lanky limbs like he belongs there.

Changmin flips his hand dismissively. ‘Try not to destroy the place.’ Joonmyeon notes his still casual possession of the space, but doesn’t say anything.

When they enter the kitchen, Joonmyeon is already pulling out the cellophane wrapped packages from the bag, finding little white cake cups, a small box of strawberries and a container of whipping cream as well.

They set about into motion, Yunho finding bowls and the whipping container and Joonmyeon pulling out the colander, dumping the container of strawberries into it and setting it under the tap to gently run cold water over them. He arranges the little cakes in the bowls artfully, trusting that Yunho knows how to work his whip charger better than he does before finding a pairing knife and lopping off the tops of the strawberries. Working beside him, Yunho softly hums a tune that Joonmyeon doesn’t recognize and he wonders if it’s something new.

He’s slicing the second strawberry into the bowl when Yunho’s casual, ‘so how long have you wanted to kiss Jongdae?’ nearly causes him to lose a finger. The knife clatters to the counter, splattering fruit everywhere as Joonmyeon inspects his hand to make sure that the red on his hand is strawberry and not blood.

‘Where on earth did you get that idea?’ Joonmyeon asks, his voice surprisingly cool and calm despite the sudden flurry of volatile emotion that coils his stomach into knots. Content that he didn’t cut himself, he picks up the knife and continues where he left off.

‘They didn’t give me the leader position solely based on my handsomeness.’

Joonmyeon steals a look towards where Yunho is hunting through a drawer for the little box of nitrous oxide canisters, only to find that Yunho is looking at him with an amused curve to his mouth, his brown eyes glinting in the lights of the kitchen and Joonmyeon isn’t sure whether to be worried that he is so easily read or to be comforted by the fact that Yunho doesn’t seem angry or hurt by it – simply amused.

‘You are very handsome though,’ Joonmyeon murmurs, distancing himself from Yunho’s question. He can’t think about Jongdae now, not while Jongdae was curled up in Changmin and he was here with Yunho. Not when the very question brought up perfect moments in his mind – Jongdae fixing his collar after their stage, Jongdae hugging his neck and tilting his head so their temples touched while they watched some ridiculous drama, Jongdae laughing while lying on his bed, making fun of one of Joonmyeon’s many self-help books.

Needing a distraction, Joonmyeon turns and lifts himself up onto his tiptoes, tracing the contours of Yunho’s mouth with his, feeling the gentle swell of his lower lip, soft and pliable, so different from his small, slightly chapped ones.

Yunho just smiles against his lips and kisses him back softly, his mouth certain and familiar. ‘Very handsome.’ He stands back up straight and attaches the charger to the canister with a sharp _hiss_ of escaping gas. ‘I’m also observant. I did enjoy how you very skillfully evaded that question.’

Joonmyeon’s mouth is suddenly dry as he turns back to slicing up the strawberries. ‘I didn’t evade it; I just needed time to think.’

‘I’ll give you an easier question then – do you want to kiss him?’

Joonmyeon concentrates on his rhythm. _Cut cut cut slice drop._ Next berry. _Cut cut cut slice drop._ ‘Yes.’ It seems too simple of an answer. He does want to kiss him, but not in the same way he kisses Yunho. Yunho is warmth and heat and desire and adoration. Jongdae is cool and comfort and support and gratefulness.

He wants Jongdae to look at him in a way different than simple encouragement. He wants to make Jongdae _content_ , except Joonmyeon feels more of a burden than a friend to Jongdae some days, and Changmin is a stark reminder as to how Jongdae _could_ be – without Joonmyeon. Frowning to himself, Joonmyeon sucks in a sharp breath and tries to clear his head. It’s hard enough trying to sort through his feelings for himself, he can’t imagine explaining it to Yunho.

Still, Yunho presses on: ‘Have you?’

‘No.’ A million moments wasted, perhaps.

‘Have you asked him?’

Joonmyeon mutely shakes his head.

‘Are you afraid he’ll say no?’

Joonmyeon finally looks up at Yunho. ‘I’m afraid he’ll say yes.’ He drags his lower lip through his teeth, willing Yunho to understand. Understand how much he needs Jongdae and how much he can’t push him away under any circumstance because while it is Yunho who relieves and relaxes and renews him, it’s Jongdae who holds him together when he’s so certain he’s going to fall apart. ‘I’m afraid he’ll say yes because it’s me.’

Already, Jongdae does too much for Joonmyeon. It would be so easy for Jongdae to think that this is just another thing that Joonmyeon needs to continue being a leader. Joonmyeon can imagine it now – how easily Jongdae would simply lean over and kiss him without complaint, smiling encouragingly at him afterwards. Except that’s not at all what Joonmyeon wants. He wants to kiss Jongdae _for_ Jongdae, not himself.

Next to him, Yunho nods and Joonmyeon breathes easier for it. His eyes go half-lidded in contemplation as Yunho steps up behind him, feeling his arms sliding around his waist, his chin coming down to rest on the top of Joonmyeon’s head, surrounding him in the way only Yunho could – spicy cologne in his nose, the heat of him against his back, just trust and caring and acceptance.

‘You won’t know until you ask,’ Yunho says simply, applying far too large swirls of whipping cream onto Joonmyeon’s beautifully arranged cake and strawberries, but he’s so eager about it that Joonmyeon lets him and is preemptively amused by what Changmin’s reaction to the confection will be. ‘It might be ‘no,’ and then you will have another bridge to cross, but when have you ever let your fear of the unknown get to you? When have you ever not just jumped in with both feet, aiming for your best? And to be perfectly honest, if _I’ve_ noticed it, then you can be sure Jongdae has as well – he just doesn’t want to push you into something the same way you don’t.’

Joonmyeon is silent in his arms for a while, chewing over the words slowly in his mind. Yunho is right of course. Jongdae doesn’t push him, not really. He guides, he coaxes, he asks and waits.

All for Joonmyeon.

‘What about Changmin-hyung?’ Joonmyeon says finally, dripping some strawberry slices on top of the mess that Yunho has made of their cakes, trying to re-artify it somewhat, feeling small and scared and not liking either feeling. ‘What about… you?’

Joonmyeon feels rather than hears Yunho’s laughter and the arms around him tighten as Yunho's lips fall into his hair.

'If we can be with each other, it would be pretty hypocritical of us to not let you two be with each other as well.' He feels Yunho grin. 'Besides, sometimes I feel like Changdol needs more lessons in sharing.'

But Joonmyeon shakes his head. 'I don't feel the same way about him that you feel about Changmin.'

'Then what do you feel?'

 _Helpless_ , is the first word that comes to Joonmyeon's mouth, but he swallows it back. 'Confused,' he says instead.

'That is something for you and Jongdae to figure out,' Yunho replies with certainty, and when Joonmyeon turns and looks at him, he’s smiling and his eyes are soft and warm. 'But as long as it doesn't change how you feel about me, then I will still be here.'

'Never,' Joonmyeon states fiercely, a hot flash of adoration rocketing through him, burning everything up – burning _him_ up – and he presses his mouth full up against Yunho’s, sliding his tongue along the lower seam of the man’s lip, feeling the silky softness there, the taste of whipped cream from where he had obviously eaten some when Joonmyeon wasn’t paying attention. With a soft sigh that shoots electricity through to his toes, Yunho’s mouth falls open and Joonmyeon hums in delight, regaining ground that he’s lost with the emotions of his evening.

'Can we have dessert before you two begin for the night?'

The sound of Changmin's voice makes Joonmyeon roll his eyes northward, even while his tongue softly flickers behind Yunho's canines, chasing the sweetness of both the cream and Yunho’s affection.

'Later,' Joonmyeon whispers, a promise against Yunho's mouth even as he loosens his arms around Yunho's neck and pulls the man down to his level before moving away.

'Yes,' Yunho agrees easily, eagerly, and Joonmyeon can't help but smile at the breathiness of Yunho’s voice. For now, he curls his fingers around Yunho's wrist like he's capturing him for good, a claim that Yunho accepts with a flutter of his lashes and a smile.

Still, he's forced to drop his grip to pick up two of the bowls, bringing them out to the living room, finding Jongdae and Changmin seemingly actually engrossed in whatever show Changmin eventually chose.

Yunho’s couch is wide, but Jongdae takes up most of the space. While Changmin sits at one end, sandwiched between the arm and Jongdae, Jongdae sits sideways, his legs splayed out across the cushions as he leans his back against Changmin’s side, seemingly content with Changmin’s arm thrown casually across his stomach in a half-hug as they watch the TV across from them.

Joonmyeon hands off the two bowls, trying to hide his smile at the appalled look on Changmin's face when he spots the absurd amount of whipping cream while Jongdae simply snorts in amusement. Seeing him, Jongdae draws his legs to his chest in order to make room. With a pleased sigh, Joonmyeon collapses on the couch next to them, taking his bowl from Yunho, feeling Jongdae tuck cold toes underneath his thighs and wiggle them in a vague attempt at tickling. Making an unflattering noise, Joonmyeon elbows Jongdae’s shin to get him to stop, and feels an unabashed grin bloom over his face when Jongdae laughs.

Yunho settles down beside him and Joonmyeon tucks up into his side, scraping his spoon up along the mountain of whipping cream and sliding it into his mouth as he tunes in to whatever has Changmin and Jongdae’s attention. It takes about two seconds of watching when he realises what’s on the television.

‘Why on earth are you guys watching this?’ Joonmyeon’s face crinkles in displeasure as he watches as Im Yoona crosses the cafe to talk to Yoon Shiyoon. He knows which show this is. He knows which _episode_ this is.

Changmin shoots a slash of a grin at him and he knows the choice is deliberate. ‘I thought you liked seeing yourself on screen.’

Joonmyeon rolls his eyes but answers back placatingly, ‘This is a good show, though, I should hope you are watching for Yoona-sunbaenim’s excellent performance.’

Jeon Minseo appears onscreen and Joonmyeon can’t help the small smile that twitches at the corner of his lips, remembering the cute little girl who so eagerly called him ‘oppa!’ off-camera whenever they shared a small snack break together.

‘Suho-oppa,’ Jongdae snorts and while Joonmyeon does agree with him about the disingenuity of adding that link of his singing career into the drama when they obviously already promoted his cameo as a way to get ratings, he is more concerned with critiquing his own performance. His bowl sits almost forgotten in his hands as he watches his own face with a judging eye, noting how he seems too stiff in some of his words, how his body doesn’t move quite naturally enough, how it looks as though he’s fighting a smile or a grimace when the camera zooms in and remembering how Minseo nearly made him laugh every take just by being her adorable self. In a flash, his part is over and he makes a small face at himself that a ten-year-old essentially out-acted him.

‘So, you were supposed to be _fifteen_ there?’

Changmin’s words pull him back from his thoughts with a jerk. Joonmyeon tilts his head, giving the other a condescending look over Jongdae’s shoulder. It was odd – he would almost suspect Changmin of knowing the right thing to say to snap him out of his head , except this is _Changmin_ and it was just as likely that he was simply being an asshole. Joonmyeon places his bets on the latter for now, no need to give Changmin credit for anything just yet.

‘You can’t say anything,’ replies Joonmyeon, ‘considering I heard you play a sixteen year old in your upcoming little miniseries thing.’ He waves his hand around as if to encompass all of Changmin’s acting into a mere gesture.

Changmin raises his eyebrow at him. ‘And that is different from you because...’

Joonmyeon smiles. ‘Predebut pictures of me are rare, but we _all_ know what you looked like at sixteen. Pretty sure I had a poster of you up on my wall.’ Joonmyeon taps his spoon against his lower lip gently, eyes still on Changmin’s face to take in the other’s ever-darkening expression. ‘I wonder if they can even possibly recreate that level of awkward.’

‘Oh, don’t be mean, Joonmyeonnie,’ Yunho states, distracting himself from the drama and his dessert to place his head on top of Joonmyeon’s, smiling over at Changmin. ‘He was an incredibly cute dongsaeng.’

‘I think we are missing the important point here,’ Jongdae drawls, a teasing look in his eye.

'Which is...?' Changmin sounds unimpressed, giving Yunho a look which speaks volumes about how he feels about Yunho's 'defense'.

Jongdae doesn't look at him, his gaze focused on Joonmyeon, and smiles the tongue-bitten smile he gets when he's about to deliver a devastating blow: 'that Joonmyeon-hyung had a picture of you up on his wall.'

Changmin looks at him wide-eyed for a second, then dissolves into laughter, loud and obnoxious, his whole body shaking with it.

Joonmyeon tugs on Jongdae's ankle punishingly, but Jongdae continues to grin at him, unrepentant.

'Everyone had a poster of DBSK up on their walls; you guys were the trend, if you don’t recall,' Joonmyeon says, trying damage control, but it’s too late.

'No, we weren't, but you're sweet to say so,' Yunho replies, then ruins it by asking, 'who was your favourite?' with a sly smile.

'Yoochun,' Joonmyeon answers immediately, his voice dry, but feels bad when he sees Yunho's face fall slightly – even as Changmin laughs harder. He presses his nose into Yunho's shoulder. 'I'm kidding. Don't know if you've forgotten, but I've been chasing you since debut, hyung.'

'Chasing but not doing anything about it,' Jongdae says, his voice mild and slightly teasing, but Joonmyeon's eyes snap to him anyway and find that Jongdae is looking at him, _through_ him in a way that makes his throat dry and emotions churn in his gut. 'Honestly, hyung, you’re always so obvious, but you never quite take the plunge, not until you've been pushed into it.’ He shakes his head a little in exasperation before turning his attention back to the drama, seemingly done. 

Joonmyeon licks his lips. There’s a curve to Jongdae’s mouth, like it’s hiding a message just for Joonmyeon, something that might not have anything to do with Yunho anymore. 'Right,' he answers back anyway, looking away, and digs into his dessert before the thoughts buzzing in his head explode out of his mouth.

They go back to the drama, but Joonmyeon can't help his eyes flickering over to Jongdae, splayed lazily over Changmin's chest, the angle of his head baring the line of his throat above his collared shirt. A fierce flame of affection grips his chest and again he just wants to _express_ his feelings for him in a tangible way, to press his fingertips into him in gratitude, to shift his warmth through his breath into Jongdae.

He’s so caught up in his own head that Changmin’s voice catches him completely off guard: 'good _god_.’ Changmin throws an exasperated glance over Jongdae’s shoulder, making Jongdae loll his head back to glance over at Changmin in curiosity. He continues. 'I have no idea whether I should be annoyed or just pity you.'

Bewildered, Joonmyeon blinks. 'What?'

Changmin scoffs. 'You can ask your sunbae out to dinner on national television, but the best you can do for your best friend is throw moon-eyes in his direction every time you think he’s not looking?’ Inadvertently, Joonmyeon flickers his gaze over Jongdae, except Jongdae is watching Changmin with something inexplicable on his face, something that Joonmyeon can’t touch, as Changmin keeps talking, ‘I'm not saying that's new level of pathetic, but it's rapidly approaching.'

Still, tearing his eyes away from Jongdae and back to Changmin, Joonmyeon can only gape at him wordlessly, because no no _no_ this wasn’t how Jongdae was supposed to know, supposed to find out, this isn’t at all what he anticipated and Joonmyeon isn’t prepared at all – 

'Then again,' Changmin says, a wicked gleam lighting up his eyes, 'maybe I should be glad.' Joonmyeon feels helpless, sitting there with his bowl in his hands and his eyes wide as he watches Changmin pull aside the collar of Jongdae’s shirt. Everything seems to vanish from Joonmyeon’s senses – the feeling of the bowl clutched in his lap, the press of Yunho along his side, the give of the couch underneath – as Changmin lowers his head, eyes half-hooded, and sinks his teeth into the exposed skin. Joonmyeon feels his stomach flip when he sees Jongdae's eyes flutter closed, a soundless breath sighing out of his lungs.

‘Wait!’ explodes out of Joonmyeon before he can stop it, his hands reaching out and pulling Jongdae towards him without even thinking, out of Changmin’s arms and into his where he can keep him safe and secure and maybe explain himself. It’s only after the fact when Jongdae is lying warm on his legs that he wonders why they aren’t covered in whipped cream. Beside him, Yunho is setting two bowls down on the table, answering that question, and Joonmyeon wants to kiss him for his quick reflexes.

Instead, he glares at Changmin and searches for a reason to explain away the irritation boiling in his belly. ‘Do you know the trouble we’ll be in if he goes on stage in a few days covered in _bite marks_?’ he snaps, settling on the old standard. Anything to stall having to explain what Changmin has brought up at the worst possible time. Anything to fight away the feelings of inadequacy that Changmin can make him feel with just one gesture, where Changmin can give Jongdae an expression that no one else – especially Joonmyeon – can. Anything to prevent from feeling angry and guilty and envious over that fact.

‘Hyung.’

Then Joonmyeon makes the mistake of looking down. Down to a pleasant, flushed Jongdae with his curved lip and the red bloom of a bite colouring his neck. Down to the Jongdae who knows all him, knows how to _deal_ with him, even though he shouldn’t have to. Jongdae who takes on the world and too much and somehow still handles it and handles _him_ when Joonmyeon just feels like a frayed rope tugged in eleven directions.

His irritation drains out of him, with just the sight of Jongdae. While his shoulders unknot, he sees Jongdae’s lips quirk as his eyes – with pupils already blown slightly wide in lust – find his and stare through him and Joonmyeon is helpless.

‘I want to kiss you,’ he admits resignedly.

‘I know,’ Jongdae replies as if it were the most natural thing in the world, when it’s not – he needs to absolutely understand, know the nuances of what Joonmyeon feels, that this isn’t something for Joonmyeon but for _Jongdae_.

‘No,’ Joonmyeon says, his voice firm, and for the first time, he’s feeling strong about the situation even if he’s been slammed into it. Fuck it, if he was going to confess, he was going to confess one hundred and ten percent, the way he did with Yunho, the way he would from now on, just so Jongdae can _understand_. ‘No,’ he repeats, ‘I, Joonmyeon, want to kiss you, Jongdae, with no leaders or hyungs or bands in the way between us.’

Jongdae just grins wide. ‘Took you long enough, hyung.’

He can’t figure out how to interpret that, so instead of thinking, Joonmyeon leans down and bumps noses with Jongdae, closing his eyes just to savour the closeness of him, the warmth of his touch. When he does finally, finally touch his mouth to his, it’s soft and feather-light, a whisper of a kiss, a toe dipped into the vast ocean that is roaring in the back of his mind.

And Jongdae – beautiful Jongdae, _his_ Jongdae – just sighs back, his lips moving under his just the barest amount and Joonmyeon shifts in response, diving into him like a still pool, cool and clean and refreshing. He mouths lovingly at the curve of Jongdae’s upper lip, his hand sliding up to curl his fingers against Jongdae’s neck, knuckles resting under the sharp angle of his jaw, his fingertips just delicately brushing his skin. Jongdae’s lips are slightly chapped, as are his, but they are also oh _so_ warm and soft and different, like the thrill Joonmyeon feels of finally kissing Jongdae pooling in his belly.

After a time passes, Joonmyeon lifts his head to catch his breath, feeling dizzy and lightheaded and wonderful except he _can’t_ breathe because Jongdae is looking at him and his lips are parted softly, the ends turned up in a smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling like they do when the smile is _real_ and Joonmyeon is lost in it. This expression is _his_. Later – later he will wonder if Changmin has seen it as well, if this is one that Jongdae turns on him in the warm afterglow, but for the moment, Joonmyeon can’t care because if nothing else, he can finally show how much he cares. Finally, he has the freedom to press his affection like bursts of sunshine into Jongdae’s skin, has the means to claim one of Jongdae’s rare expressions as something he can cause.

‘Can I kiss you again?’ he asks, warmth tripping through him and curling into his words and his eyes and the ends of his fingertips.

Jongdae just tilts his face up and Joonmyeon meets him halfway, feeling as though now that the barrier is broken, he can’t get enough. He wants to paint the other’s face with kisses, sweet and plentiful until Jongdae is buried in them, coated and protected by the sheer force of Joonmyeon’s gratitude and admiration and love.

Pressing a soft kiss to Jongdae’s mouth, Joonmyeon rests his forehead against his, feeling his pulse thrum in his neck, his ears, his wrists. Sparks prickle under his skin, but it is more like a pleasant buzz, like his nerves are alive again. Behind him, he feels Yunho’s hand at the small of his back, solid and reassuring and in this moment, everything is perfect.

His tongue flickers against Jongdae’s lower lip, almost as if by instinct and he immediately backs off when Jongdae gasps, feeling his sudden intake of breath against his skin like an electric shock. Just before he pulls away, Jongdae merely shakes his head slightly and presses his mouth, open and wet up against Joonmyeon’s and instantly Joonmyeon is flying again, pushing Jongdae down, threading his hands through his hair – gently, gently – breathing into him.

He kisses nothing like Yunho and the new sensation sends pleasure whipping down his spine as he curls his tongue around Jongdae’s, wondering vaguely if he’s ever going to be able to taste strawberries and cream without getting hard anymore. Jongdae’s features, so familiar to him, feel brand new under his questing fingertips, and he aches to rememorize the arch of Jongdae’s cheekbone, the softness of his cheek, the sharp angle of his jaw.

It’s when his fingers come in contact with the flesh of Changmin’s bite – slightly warmer to the touch – and he presses gently, curiously and is rewarded with a low, soft moan from Jongdae’s throat. A thrill of excitement alights his brain and he wants, oh he _wants_. He wants to see all the sides of Jongdae now.

‘Careful,’ Changmin laughs, but it’s husky, throaty, not filled with his usual smarminess. ‘Don’t start something you can’t finish.’

Sucking Jongdae’s swollen lower lip into his mouth, Joonmyeon slowly pulls back, allowing it to gently slip out between his lips, his eyelids feeling heavy, his breathing uneven and slightly laboured. He doesn’t intend to. Not when Jongdae’s eyelashes are fluttering thick and dark against his cheek, his throat bobbing softly with his swallows.

Instead he takes his mouth across the lovely expanse of Jongdae’s cheekbone, dragging his lips across it as if attempting to feel the flushed skin.

‘Can I?’ he whispers in Jongdae’s ear, pressing a kiss to the curve of cartilage. He wants to take such good care of him. He wants to thank him for taking care of Joonmyeon so well, but even that is wrong because it’s more than simple thanks – he wants Jongdae to know how much Joonmyeon needs him and wants him to stay by his side because he is just that much stronger with him there. His hand slides to Jongdae’s chest – no lower. ‘Can I do this for you Jongdae?’

And Jongdae just exhales, his eyes opening slightly to give him a slitted, cat-like grin. ‘Of course,’ he replies.

Jongdae maneuvers backwards, swinging himself around the couch so that he faces Joonmyeon with his upper body resting against Changmin’s side. Joonmyeon follows, crawling on top of him, sliding his knee to rest in between Jongdae’s thighs, against the heavy heat of his cock, feeling his own respond, twitching in his briefs. Jongdae was _hard_. For _him_. His hand notches back against Jongdae’s neck as he presses his lips hard against his, trying to send his feelings through them. He was going to be _so good_ to his Jongdae.

His other hand inches down, trailing past shirt buttons that he could open if he was more patient, until he is gently running his palm over the arch of Jongdae’s cock in his pants, feeling the shape, the weight, how perfectly he was going to fit in Joonmyeon’s small hands.

He doesn’t realize he’s shaking – from nervousness or excitement, he doesn’t know – until Yunho’s hand slides around his waist, slipping under his shirt to caress his bare skin, comforting and solid against his belly. Joonmyeon’s hand presses harder on Jongdae’s length and he pulls back slightly, watching for the bob of Jongdae’s throat as he swallows. His need to please and his need to perform mix in his head until he is nearly bursting with it.

His mouth goes back to Jongdae’s, wanting to taste him, wanting to breathe him, even as his hand undoes the top button of Jongdae’s trousers, his fingers trailing the line of coarse hair down below his belly button and into the elastic of his underwear until they come in contact with the wet tip of his cock. Hungrily, he swallows Jongdae’s soft gasps as his fingertips slick themselves through the wetness of the precome there, flicking his slit, squeezing the head gently as Jongdae’s hips arch up against him.

Needing more room to maneuver, Joonmyeon quickly and rather clumsily pushes down Jongdae’s pants and underwear to the tops of his thighs, letting Jongdae’s cock arch deep pink and thick up against his stomach, before he’s spitting in his hand and wrapping his fingers around the base. Slow, steady strokes, twisting his fingers gently over the head, feeling the heat of him, the damp rasp, the gorgeous way Jongdae’s eyelashes flutter when he runs his knuckles over the glans.

‘You’re never going to get him off if you keep being so fucking nice,’ Changmin says, his voice a low husky rumble, winding between them. ‘Isn’t that right, _Jongdae_?’ He punctuates Jongdae’s name with his nails, drawing up Jongdae’s shirt over his stomach, leaving bright pink lines blooming in his wake as Jongdae lets out his first actual noise, a low curse that falls rough from his mouth, his stomach concaving as he arches.

It draws Joonmyeon up short and some mix-up of panic and arousal rises in his throat at the pain that Changmin inflicts on Jongdae and he begins to pull back, fully intent on giving Changmin a tongue-lashing that would last him a century, but his back comes into contact with the warm, solid front of Yunho and he feels a mouth fall next to his ear.

‘Look at how he likes it,’ Yunho murmurs to him softly, his lips kissing the edge of the cartilage, his fingers still just pulling soft lines across his stomach. Joonmyeon looks at Jongdae, really _looks_ at him, and his mouth goes dry at the pure lust in Jongdae’s dark eyes, flushed cheeks, mouth all kiss-swollen and wet. His cock throbs. Yunho continues, his words like warm silk, ‘You can see it, can’t you? See what he needs? I know you can do it, Myeonnie.’

Joonmyeon swallows. Even if Yunho says so, he could never… _hurt_ his Jongdae. Yet, the idea that Joonmyeon could please him – take him apart the way Jongdae wants it, leave him sated and happy by the end. That might be something Joonmyeon can do.

‘Is it true?’ Joonmyeon asks, giving Jongdae’s cock a firm pump as he presses his mouth against Jongdae’s for what feels like the thousandth time and still just as glorious. ‘Is that why you come home covered in bruises?’ He murmurs against Jongdae’s lips. ‘You like it hard?’

Jongdae’s mouth twitches under his and Joonmyeon has the feeling he’s hiding a smile. ‘You can find out, if you want,’ he says softly, and Joonmyeon understands completely. It’s a yes. But it’s a yes only if Joonmyeon is comfortable with it.

Always guiding, coaxing, asking and waiting. Joonmyeon loves him more fiercely than ever.

‘Tell me,’ Joonmyeon whispers, his voice a command and a question all at once, squeezing his cock hard and Jongdae’s hand comes up to curl fingers around his shoulder. ‘Tell me what Changmin-hyung does to you that makes you fall apart beneath him.’

Jongdae’s breath quickens, catches. ‘He marks me up – with his mouth, his hands, his nails.’

Joonmyeon inhales softly through his nose. He knows already – of course he knows, as if he doesn’t categorise every mark he can see on Jongdae’s body when he strips out of his shirt at the dorms – but for once the idea doesn’t fill him with envy or irritation. Perhaps because this time he _knows_ it is for _Jongdae’s_ pleasure.

‘And do you like being marked?’ he asks instead, running his mouth lightly over the arch of Jongdae’s neck, his hand still working hard at Jongdae’s cock, the sound of his flesh slick and loud over the sound of their breathing and his own blood rushing in his ears.

‘Yes,’ Jongdae hisses, arching his neck sideways, offering himself up, and it seems like it should be an easy thing just to sink his teeth in, bite down, put his own bruise next to Changmin’s, but still Joonmyeon shies away from it, instead simply sucking a light red mark before licking a line down to his collarbones where Changmin has already opened his shirt. He can’t do it – he can’t hurt his Jongdae. But perhaps _he_ doesn’t have to.

Joonmyeon looks up, catching Changmin’s eyes, dark and glittering, his mouth parted and half-cocked in a smile. ‘You can touch,’ he states, as if Changmin hasn’t been already, but it’s more than that. He wants to own everything that happens to Jongdae in that moment, even if it’s not done by him personally.

A bark of laughter erupts from Changmin, ‘Where did you find this kid, Yunho?’ before his mouth is against Jongdae’s ear, his teeth sinking in and tugging hard, his hands going to Jongdae’s nipples, twisting them – and suddenly Jongdae is making the most beautiful sounds, gasps and long shuddering moans, arching up underneath Joonmyeon, his other hand going to Changmin’s wrist, digging his nails right in.

‘You found him for me, remember?’ Yunho replies, his voice warm and breathless where it falls on the back of Joonmyeon’s neck, making him shiver. Joonmyeon doesn’t respond, intent instead on catching every vocalisation falling from Jongdae’s lips, licking them up, filthy and wet, as he feels Jongdae’s cock twitch in his hand, spitting up even more precome which he slicks down over him.

‘Do you feel good, Jongdae?’ Joonmyeon presses his thumb up underneath Jongdae’s glans, emboldened by the way Jongdae throws his head back, his eyebrows coming together.

‘Fuck, _fuck_ ,’ Jongdae spits out as Changmin’s mouth moves down to his neck, littering red and purple marks along the way, ‘hyung – _ah_.’

Joonmyeon doesn’t let him away, chasing down his mouth to press against it, open and panting. ‘Do you feel good?’

‘ _Yes_ – fuck, feels good hyung – going to come,’ Jongdae gasps, growls, moans and Joonmyeon feels his own spine light up. All he wants is to see Jongdae through, watch him come apart underneath him, know that Joonmyeon _pleased_ him.

‘Can you come for me?’ Joonmyeon asks, needing his answer, needing to know that Jongdae knows who is doing this for him. His muscles are straining, arm burning, but he won’t stop – he can’t stop, not before Jongdae finishes.

Changmin’s fingers dig deep into Jongdae’s hips and Jongdae’s breath stutters in his throat, his nails digging into Joonmyeon’s shoulder as he arches hard, ‘Ah – _ah_ – Joonmyeon- _hyung_ ,’ and a deeply satisfied wave washes through Joonmyeon as he smiles against Jongdae’s chin.

Then Jongdae is coming gloriously, a keening wail echoing to the ceiling and Joonmyeon is there to catch every sound, every nuance of Jongdae’s twitching, every gorgeous expression on his face, his cheeks painted red and fanned by long dark lashes. He milks Jongdae’s cock dry as he presses sweet kisses to Jongdae’s lower lip, feeling his warm come splash over his hand. Only when he is draping relaxed and boneless against Changmin that Joonmyeon pulls away, sits up on his knees to admire the sight of the pearly liquid running thick over his fingers.

His eyes drop to half-mast and his tongue darts out, licking up the mess of his hand, tasting the new salt-tangy flavour of Jongdae, already thinking of the next time, of what it would be like to take him deep into his mouth, what new sounds he could extract from him, if he could figure out a way to please him so thoroughly without help.

‘F- _uck_ , hyung,’ Jongdae swears breathlessly, watching him with warm eyes as he tucks himself back in his pants. Joonmyeon can’t help but smile back, easily, affectionately even as his body throbs and aches from being ignored.

Jongdae’s gaze drops to the obvious bulge in Joonmyeon’s pants and he stirs, reaching for him but Joonmyeon stops him with a shake of a head, taking his hand with his clean one and intertwining their fingers.

‘No,’ he says, his voice low and throaty. He swallows against it and squeezes his hand even as Yunho uses his arm around his waist to draws him closer into the other’s heat. ‘For you. I wanted to do it for you.’

And Jongdae – blessed Jongdae – just nods, his smile open and soft. ‘Later then, hyung.’

With Jongdae sated and finished, Joonmyeon is left shaking still, emotions rising up to choke him – pride and affection and lust and fear and want – and he nods, retreating for the moment into Yunho’s embrace. Behind him, Yunho is a solid line against Joonmyeon’s spine, holding him straight when he thinks he’s going to collapse in on himself with the hurricane of emotions rolling in his stomach.

The haze of wanting to please Jongdae is retreating from Joonmyeon’s head, but it leaves behind a void of uncertainty that he was afraid of facing from before. Now what? The words echo in his head. _Now what?_ Suddenly, Joonmyeon just wants to sink into Yunho’s warmth, hide for a while until his mind is done dealing with how their relationship may have changed and how Jongdae had been witness to Joonmyeon’s sudden neediness, his absolute willingness to do whatever Jongdae asked, if it was for Jongdae. For now, he curls up in on himself, tucked between Yunho’s solid arms, and tries to physically cover up for the vulnerability he feels. 

Silently, Jongdae pulls his hand away from Joonmyeon’s, his expression softening to something that could be understanding if Joonmyeon wasn’t so busy trying to deal with himself. Instead, Joonmyeon shies away from Jongdae’s expression and watches Changmin wrap his long arms around Jongdae’s torso, kissing the line of his jaw softly.

‘Let me clean you up,’ he says quietly, moving off the couch and picking Jongdae up in a practiced motion so Jongdae’s head is tucked next to his neck. Joonmyeon is glad that Changmin doesn’t look at him – he doesn’t think he’d do well feeling all cracked open in front of someone as put-together as Changmin.

Closing his eyes, Joonmyeon leans his head back on Yunho’s shoulder and listens to the soft sound of Changmin’s footsteps as both he and Jongdae go down the hall and quietly close a door behind them with a muffled click. He’s not aware he’s holding his breath until he exhales loudly, coming back into his own skin where he feels the sticky dryness of Jongdae’s come on his hand and the warmth of Yunho’s cheek as it rests against his hair.

‘Talk to me?’ Yunho suggests, his breath stirring the strands.

Joonmyeon laughs, but it’s small – nervous. ‘That went… farther than I intended.’ He looks over to where Changmin and Jongdae have disappeared down the hallway, and thankfully fondness overrides all other feelings for the moment. ‘I can’t regret it though.’

‘Why should you?’

Joonmyeon flips over and plants his chin on Yunho’s chest, but a smile is stealing over his face, the corners of his lips tipping up. Now that it’s simply him and Yunho, his feelings are slowly settling, retreating like clouds after a storm, but in their wake he feels more… balanced somehow. As if something that had been wrong a long time was suddenly made right. ‘Since when did you become my therapist?’ he asks in amusement.

Yunho flicks his forehead gently with the back of his middle finger, but smiles back – wide and teasing and solid. ‘I’m your hyung,’ he says with a small nod. ‘Plus – ’ he presses his mouth to the mark he left, apologetic, ‘ – I’ve been there. Done that. Know what it’s like.’ The grin is against his skin now and Joonmyeon feels it like a brand. ‘Mostly I’m just trying to _not_ tell you how to live your life and instead help you find your own way through it, despite all my internal instincts screaming at me otherwise.’

Joonmyeon rolls his eyes goodnaturedly, but there’s something just so… comforting about the idea that Yunho _has_ been there before, someone _does_ know what it’s like. The burden of leader feels if not lighter, at least more understood in all its nuance and complications and stresses and he just tilts his face up, pressing his mouth against Yunho’s plush one, capturing the warmth of his mouth with his.

Yunho breaks away from him with a slightly pained expression pinching his eyebrows up, turning his lip down into a pout. ‘Really?’ he asks. ‘Yoochun?’

Joonmyeon laughs, loud and unapologetic, and rises to his knees in order to push on Yunho’s shoulders, bending down to kiss the disgruntled look off his face. ‘Yes, Yoochun-hyung was definitely the one I chased all through the SM building,’ he states, brushing his mouth over the curve of Yunho’s cheek. ‘Totally the one I not only asked out on national television, but expressed jealousy over.’ The bridge of Yunho’s nose. ‘Definitely the one I spent weeks working up the courage to ask to go out to dinner with.’

Yunho smiles and glows under the affection. ‘You did all of this to Yoochun too?’

Joonmyeon snorts and just kisses Yunho fully, tilting his head over his mouth, sliding his tongue in to taste teeth and gums and laughter.

Yunho’s fingers curl large and gentle around Joonmyeon’s hips and Joonmyeon is just floored with how beautiful and precious Yunho is and how much he wants to just keep him forever. He grinds his hips down, his cock – aching and forgotten – suddenly springing back to life intense and hard as he pushes it into Yunho’s hips, feeling the answering twitch of Yunho’s cock.

Bracing his hands on Yunho’s shoulders, he softly rocks against Yunho, feeling every gentle thrust with an equal response the other man, lifting his hips up to meet Joonmyeon. While he loves getting fucked by Yunho, Joonmyeon isn’t prepared today and doesn’t want to break the moment to go grab lube. Instead, he just jams against him, hard and heavy and hot, watching as a gorgeous flush climbs from Yunho’s chest, over his neck, and up into his face.

'Want to keep you, hyung,' he rasps to him, nuzzling under his jaw even as he reaches down to flick open the buttons on Yunho's pants, wanting to feel him skin to skin. 'Going to be greedy.'

‘Please,’ Yunho replies on a sigh, his own hands already having undone Joonmyeon’s pants and gracefully sliding over the bare skin of Joonmyeon’s ass. ‘Take all you want,’ and Joonmyeon’s heart nearly stutters in his chest.

Joonmyeon lets out an eager moan at Yunho’s words, licking against the lovely skin of his neck, his fingers finally grasping the heated length of Yunho’s cock, pulling it out, running his fingers over the familiar ridges, rocking back into Yunho’s hands.

'Why me?' Joonmyeon asks, curiosity overriding lust for a brief moment, circling his fingers around Yunho's cock as he strokes him to the base, his pinkie and ring finger stroking absently through the crisp hair there.

'Because,' Yunho replies, throaty, pressing his mouth across Joonmyeon's expanse of a forehead, every kiss like a seal of warmth that goes straight to his heart. 'You are so honest in your affection, it floors me every time. Because I'm always striving to be better and I can see you are the same and I can't wait for you to catch up and propel us both forward.’ He quirks a smile. ‘And because your ass is just that cute.'

Joonmyeon wraps his arm around Yunho's shoulders, overwhelmed, pulling him into his mouth so suddenly that the weight of Yunho topples them over on the couch, landing so that Yunho is pressing Joonmyeon down. And he's never felt so safe and secure and yet _powerful_ so when Yunho goes to move off of him, Joonmyeon holds on tightly, sinking his teeth lightly into the curve of Yunho's lower lip, urging him to stay where he is.

'God, Myeonnie.' The sigh of his name goes straight through his toes as he fights to get his pants open, his cock finally springing free so he is able to hold it against Yunho's in his hand.

Yunho’s cock is a lot bigger than his, the arch different, more pronounced. Joonmyeon doesn't mind though, not when he's running his knuckles over the purpling head with it's leaking slit and under the flare of his crown, watching as Yunho’s hand joins his, his larger fingers layering over Joonmyeon’s grasp, tightening it until Yunho is gasping.

‘That’s it, hyung,’ Joonmyeon grinds out, his other hand going to down Yunho’s hip, digging his fingers in, urging him to move. It’s a hard rasp, his hand still sticky from Jongdae’s come, the glide not smooth, so he brings his palm up to spit into it, and the action feels so nostalgic – so like quick jerkoffs he would give himself in the bathroom of the training building, exhausted from practise and needing the endorphins to continue on, like sneaky masturbation sessions under blankets, biting his lips to keep from even breathing too loudly and alerting his bandmates to what he was doing – and the thought of it has a small huff of laughter escaping his mouth even as he brings his hand back down to smear the saliva over their cocks.

Yunho catches the sound with his mouth, smoothing his hair back from his forehead with his hand even as he dips his tongue teasingly behind Joonmyeon’s teeth, his hips a smooth roll against Joonmyeon’s, the slickness helping. Joonmyeon’s eyelashes flutter when the thick head of Yunho’s cock catches underneath his, letting Yunho’s voice vibrate along his skin. ‘What?’

‘You make me feel like I’m sixteen again sometimes,’ Joonmyeon half-admits, half-accuses, his head falling back, letting Yunho’s forehead tuck into his neck as he moves so fluidly, so pliantly over top of him it makes Joonmyeon grateful and impressed and a little envious all at the same time. The heat travels all up and down his spine and through his toes, making them curl in his socks as he presses his heels into the couch cushions. ‘You’re so, so perfect – I – _hah_ – still feel like that boy with a crush and a poster on the wall.’

‘You are so much more than that, Myeonnie,’ Yunho replies, all warmth and sheer conviction of truth, pressing his mouth under his jaw and Joonmyeon is _this close_ to being in love with Jung Yunho but his emotions are still volatile and he figures he’ll tell him later when he hasn’t just irrevocably altered his relationship with his best friend – one relationship change an evening is his limit – so he just presses his mouth back against Yunho’s and spurs him on with high pitched moans and little encouraging _yes like_ that _hyung_ s, feeling his cock slide hard and slick along his.

Yunho abandons his hold on their cocks and braces his forearms on either side of Joonmyeon’s head, his fingers carded into his hair, his forehead resting against his, his breath hot and moist against Joonmyeon’s mouth and Joonmyeon fights to keep his eyes open even as he uses both hands to press their lengths together, wanting to see how beautiful Yunho is when he comes, the way his long lashes flutter against his flushed cheek, the way his mouth crooks up into a half-smile, the way his pupils swallow his irises so that his eyes appear bottomless and hungry and affectionate.

Heat and pleasure is pooling intense and overwhelming in his belly, in his balls, and Joonmyeon feels his hips start to jerk slightly more erratically, sweat prickling in the small of his back and beading on his temples. He needs Yunho to be close, needs him there to hold just in case he can’t quite come back after falling apart, needing reassurance for now. One day, he will have worked through this, know his body and Yunho’s body inside and out, be able to play them confidently, but for the moment he has to rely on Yunho’s experience as white begins to crowd into the edges of his brain.

‘Hyung,’ he calls, feeling himself go past the point of no return. ‘ _Hyung_.’ And then he’s gone, heat sizzling up his spine, scorching out all his nerves, feeling nothing but the weight of Yunho’s body and the heavy press of his presence and how much he could probably _so easily_ lose himself in Yunho as he trembles and gasps brokenly, his balls emptying themselves all over his stomach in rolling spurts that leave him breathless.

‘Joonmyeonnie,’ Yunho groans above him and Joonmyeon is quick to blink free of the haze of orgasm surrounding his brain and uses his hands to wrap around Yunho’s cock, working the shaft hard, his other going down to tug gently at his sac, licking at the corners of his open, panting mouth.

‘Give it to me,’ he demands his tone tight and soft, his thumb swiping over the head, running the flare of the crown through his knuckles. ‘Yunho-hyung.’

Yunho comes with a sigh and a moan against Joonmyeon’s mouth, arching his hips down towards his hands, his cock twitching in his fingers as it spits lines of semen up Joonmyeon’s abdomen, thick and pearly, turning his blue shirt dark where it lands. Joonmyeon tilts his face up, capturing Yunho’s mouth again, kissing him thankfully, wonderfully, moving to cup his lovely face in his hands with it’s beautiful curved jaw and gorgeous cheekbones, wanting to forever capture the way he positively _glows_ when he comes.

They lay there in sweaty, panting contentment before Yunho cocks a grin, his temple still tucked lovingly beside Joonmyeon’s. ‘We should probably move before Changdol comes back and fusses.’

Joonmyeon laughs and agrees, wrinkling his nose. Yunho sits back up on the couch, tucking himself back together and Joonmyeon can’t help but look down at what a delightful mess he is. ‘I guess I should have brought a spare shirt,’ he comments as he tugs his pants back up.

Yunho laughs and takes his wrist. ‘I have a sweater you can borrow.’

When Jongdae and Changmin return to the living room, Joonmyeon is eating strawberries and cake, pooled inside of one of Yunho’s large sweaters – ‘They let me keep this one after the Christmas mv,’ he had explained when he handed it over for Joonmyeon to pull on.

‘You’re finally done?’ asks Changmin, hand around Jongdae’s waist as they come back to the couch.

Joonmyeon gives him a cursory look from head to toe, but nothing about Changmin seems out of place except an obvious lack of hard-on. Jongdae must’ve taken care of him. ‘Just because _you_ finish in a minute doesn’t mean we all do.’

Changmin snorts. ‘More like I’m beginning to doubt you guys even know how to fuck.’

Beside Joonmyeon, Yunho lolls his head back up against the couch with a pout. ‘Changdol, you’re hurting my feelings.’ Changmin rolls his eyes.

‘Seriously though, we barely heard you,’ says Jongdae as he plops down beside Joonmyeon, stealing a strawberry out of his bowl to pop in his mouth. Joonmyeon ignores how Changmin eyes Yunho’s sweater critically as he sits down on the couch, instead focusing on Jongdae and shaking his head.

‘Not all of us can sing like you,’ says Joonmyeon with a smile, less teasing and more admiring. He can still hear Jongdae’s sweet voice echoing in his ears from only a little earlier. How he hopes he can hear more of it in the future.

Jongdae smiles back, eyes crinkling and shoulders relaxed. ‘So, do you feel better, hyung?’

‘Much.’

‘Knew you would,’ Jongdae says simply with a nod. And just like that, Joonmyeon knows that while everything has changed between him and Jongdae, _nothing_ has changed between him and Jongdae.

Affection and pure aching _relief_ blossom in Joonmyeon’s chest and he propels himself forward to press his mouth softly against Jongdae’s, resting his forehead on his briefly, still somewhat disbelieving that he could do this, that this type of touch is allowed, but Jongdae is still there, his hand coming up to rest on his shoulder possessively and Joonmyeon can’t feel anything but simply happy.

‘Love you,’ Joonmyeon says, knowing it doesn’t need to be said but saying it anyway.

‘I know,’ Jongdae replies with a soft teasing grin and nudges his nose tenderly.

(Later – later while tucked up in between his two favourite people, warm and content and full of more than just strawberries and cake, Changmin tries to cheapen the moment by telling them that the next time they are going to quote _Star Wars_ they should do it without looking quite so grossly affectionate, but Joonmyeon loves that moment too.)

**Author's Note:**

> please come chat us up at [Mika](http://leftfoottrapped.tumblr.com)'s or [my](http://zitaoyursocute.tumblr.com) tumblr! we're really friendly, promise~


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